


Pranks and Payback

by amarmeme



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Masturbation Interruptus, Prank gone awry, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 23:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lotte Trevelyan hopes her commander will finally get the hint after pulling a prank on him. Though she did not expect to walk in on something much more satisfying. Will they ever be able to look one another in the eye again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pranks and Payback

**Author's Note:**

> Yea, NSFW

Lotte heard the door’s lock softly pop and had to hold in a squeal of delight. She’d been waiting for the right moment to finally break into Cullen’s office. It’d been a long wait -- the man was practically a hermit when it came down to it, constantly leaning over paperwork at his desk with a furrowed brow. She was looking forward to teasing her fair commander and ever hopeful he’d return the playfulness.

She pushed the door open slowly, hoping it didn’t creak. Tiptoeing, she tucked Sera’s lock picking tools in a pocket. The room was supposed to be dark -- Cullen should have been in the main hall for the evening meal, like he always was. His routines were an adorable quirk and she was happy to take advantage of one for her pass at sneakery.  But instead of the moon lighting his tower, a candlelight flickered. As the room came fully into view, she saw something she was certainly not supposed to -- Cullen behind his desk, stroking himself.

It was the most erotic thing Lotte had ever seen, not that it said much in telling, inexperienced as she was. But this, this was magnificent. No experience was needed for her to know she’d be revisiting this scene again in her mind when she was alone. Eyes closed shut, Cullen was sitting slouched in his chair with his breeches unlaced. His tabard and shirt were hitched up under his metal plate. Long legs were spread apart and everything spilled free of the confines of fabric. The gloves that Lotte always cursed were removed as well and his strong, callused hands were fully occupied. One gripped his thigh tightly and the other was wrapped around his cock. He was stroking and twisting his hard length rapidly, squeezing at the tip on the upward strokes. His head rested against the chair, his eyes closed tight, the familiar furrowed brow gracing his features. Lotte knew she’d never be able to watch him work again without picturing this.

A deep groan passed his lips and Lotte inhaled sharply. She should turn and run, but was too transfixed by golden hair -- everywhere. At the base of his cock, running up in a trail, messed strands that fell across his forehead. Golden hair was matched by golden eyes as he reacted in shock to her sound. He was still stroking, too far gone to stop.

“Charlo--” he tried to say, breathless as he sought his pleasure. She bit her lip as he said her name, not the title. Her body had reacted quickly to the sight of him. She was more aroused than she’d ever been, her nipples aching against her breast band and her smalls becoming damp. She wanted to reach down and touch herself or touch him. No, definitely both.

Time seemed to stretch on, but it really was only a moment -- a few darting strokes -- since he spotted her. He groaned as her eyes studied his movements, and Lotte’s stomach tightened. Her skin was flush and she wanted more than anything, to see him finish.

Afraid he'd stop, she stepped forward and whispered shakily. “I want to see you come undone.” She blushed everywhere and fought an urge to hide her face after speaking so boldly. His eyes widened further and his lips parted again. He let out a strangled noise, and then further increased the pace.

It barely took a handful of strokes to cap him off. He growled as he came, spurts of his seed landing on his bared stomach and the plate of his armor. Lotte was panting, close enough now to touch his desk. Her cunt ached at the sight of him smoothing out the last few waves of pleasure, his eyes closed and his head tipped against the wooden headrest. Every part of her screamed to climb over the table and lick the drips of his seed off the metal. It would be a complex sensation -- the warm liquid and the cold metal against her tongue. She would be starkly embarrassed of the thought later, but in the moment she wanted to do every dirty thing possible: cup his balls, suck on the tip of him to get every last drop, rub her nipples lightly against the cool metal, grind against his still thick cock until she too came.

He recovered from his orgasm too fast for her liking, bolting out of the chair with a look of utter horror as the full realization of what he’d just done crashed down. He pulled his breeches up and then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Charlotte -- I mean Inquisitor. I-- Maker’s breath, I thought the door was locked.” His hand migrated to the back of his neck. The come on his stomach was travelling down with the force of gravity. “Fuck,” he said as he noticed. He spun away from her and leaned an arm against the wall with his head bowed. “You shouldn’t have been exposed to that. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was improper of me to continue in such a way once I realized you--” He sighed. “Inquisitor, would you leave me now? I need to--”

Lotte was still in shock from it all, not to mention hearing him actually curse.  She didn’t want to leave. There was now that long list of things to do to him and her body was more than ready for his touch. Any touch at all.

“Please,” he said as she failed to respond. He sounded hurt, humiliated, and her heart ached on top of everything else. She could hardly refuse.

“I’m sorry!” She squeaked.

She bolted out of the room on shaky legs, not able to remember what prank she was meaning to pull on him in the first place.

 

* * *

Things had been tense with the Inquisitor in the week since the incident. Cullen had been mortified, and possibly more ashamed than he'd ever been in his life, which was saying something considering his shaky past. He was all but ready to ask Cassandra for a replacement -- a commander had to be able to look his leader in the eye after all -- when the Inquisitor asked to see him. Or at least had sent a servant to do so. He delayed though, waving the servant off to finish a few important reports. She'd asked for him to come up to her quarters, and while that wasn't entirely odd (he'd provided her updates there multiple times before), having the incident between them made it feel much too personal.

He delayed for far longer than he liked, but was gathering courage. He had to step down, had to. It was entirely inappropriate what he'd done. The Inquisitor walking in on him was a shock, but he'd gotten perverse enjoyment out of it. Even imagined she’d begged him to continue for her benefit. He shook his head and stacked a few finished reports. He'd hand them off, his last work as Commander of the Inquisition.

As he stepped out on to the walkway to the main hall, he realized just how long he'd kept the Inquisitor waiting. The servant had been dispatched before the noon meal and now the sun dipped below the mountains. The sky was awash with reds and pinks and orange, vibrant against the stark white snow. It was beautiful and just served as another reminder of how far gone he was. He'd kept his leader waiting for the better part of a day.

The guilt gave him a burst of energy and he moved quickly through the hall. It was nearly abandoned, most of the guests of the Inquisition off at The Herald’s Rest to catch some enjoyment before the world ended. He envied them their drinks and laughter. Cullen wasn't entirely sure the Inquisitor was in her room still, given it was well into the evening and she wasn't like to just sit around all day and night. But it was already too late to turn back. Before he knew it, her door loomed ahead slightly ajar.

He went to knock anyways, knowing quite well the burning shame of being found upon unexpected. As he was about to rap his knuckles on the wood, the Inquisitor shouted down to him.

“Cullen, come in please.”

Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath and readied himself. It would be hard and could possibly be the undoing of him, but continuing to think about the Inquisitor in such a way was detrimental to the Inquisition itself. He couldn't be responsible for the ruin of one more thing, even if it meant giving up what he loved. The work. The people.

Her.

Charlotte with her silky red hair and delicate peach skin. She looked fragile and soft, but inside was a fiery strength rooted in a love for life that not even the Circle could destroy. He loved how the magic shone within and flowed out of her like a ray of sunlight descended from the heavens above. It was something he never thought he'd admire in another, but he even loved that she was a mage. Helping him further recover without even knowing it, just her will and goodness reminding him that not all magic is dark. Cullen had been infatuated from the start, yet deep within he knew it would end this way. Didn't it always?

He pushed the door aside and was ready to make his farewells. As he topped the stairs though, the Inquisitor wasn't at her desk. She was on the bed, naked.

“Yes! Come inside me, please!” She moaned. She was lying on her stomach with a hand between her legs, and was grinding her hips toward the mattress.

Cullen tried to shift away and out of sight, but stepped on the squeaky stair in just the right place. “Maker's ass,” he sighed in annoyance. Her head shot up but not toward the noise. She froze in place.

“Of course it's you.” She groaned, but not from pleasure. “Oh, Andraste preserve me.”

Cullen had averted his gaze, and stared at his feet. His hand fingered the hilt of his sword for the lack of a better action and when he figured out his mistake, color rushed to his face. She'd not been calling him in, but had said something close enough that in his distraction he'd taken it as an invitation. Maker, she had been thinking of him, asking him to come in--

Getting aroused would hardly help the situation. He chastised himself and hovered in place, unsure if he should leave or jolt further inside just so he could jump over the edge of her balcony.

“Sometimes the wind blows it open,” she said. Her voice was small, not just further away, but ashamed. He understood that feeling. Twice in one week they'd caught each other. It was uncanny and entirely cruel of the Maker.

_The door, she was talking about the door._

“I'll have the men take a look at better fortifying both our doors then,” he said. Trying to make a stupid joke. “My lock seems to be broken as well.”

He heard a sniff. Whether it was a soft snort of laughter or because she was crying, he couldn't tell.  He hoped it wasn't tears. His gut clenched and a shock of emotion flared through him. He couldn't stand the idea of her upset.

“I’ll just -- go then. I'm very sorry, Inquisitor.” He took a few steps down.

“Wait,” she cried. “Please come--” She faltered on the words echoing her pleasured thoughts from moments before. “I wanted you to co--visit-- here so we could talk about what happened. Keeps happening, apparently.”

“Are you sure that's wise?”

“Considering we are now even I think it is a better time than most.” Her voice grew closer. “Cullen, please talk to me. We’re adults and I respect you. I hope you still feel the same way about me.”

He swiveled at that. “Of course.”

They faced one another. The mage stood at the top of the stairs, her hair tumbled at her shoulders. The thick blue robe she donned gave no hints to her shape.

“Then, let us talk.”

He gave a brief nod and took a step up the stairs. The Inquisitor turned on her heels and padded barefoot to the desk, running a hand along the edge of it before taking a seat.

He was nervous, but even with the confusion his path was still clear. Hand her the reports, apologize for his behavior, and resign. He wasn't sure what he'd do next, maybe slink back to Honnleath despite being gone so many years. His sister would be overjoyed at first, but disappointment would eventually set in. He'd left and barely communicated to her for all this time and for what? To leave the Inquisition in disgrace?

“Cullen.”

The Inquisitor's voice broke the reverie. She was sitting quietly, leaning forward on her elbows on the desk and studying him. Her voice had been even, smooth and he marveled at her ability to gain composure. She had been eagerly learning diplomacy from Josephine though, and she was nobility despite having spent half her life in Ostwick’s Circle.

“You called for me,” he said. “I apologize for taking so long to return your summons. It was ill done.” He shifted and realized the reports he’d completed were still clutched in his hand. It seemed as if it had been days ago when he’d signed them. Not knowing what else to do, he dropped them before her.

“What are these?” She looked idly through the stack, briefly licking her thumb in order to better turn them over. “Reports on troop movements and the status of our keeps.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I would need to see these because?”

“I wanted to assure you everything is well in order before I formally resign.”

“You what?!” The Inquisitor stood clumsily, knocking the table with her knees. A pitcher of water trembled and the flame of a low-burning candle wavered.

Cullen took an involuntary step backwards. “Inquisitor, what I did -- it was unacceptable. And now...” He flushed and a hand came up to the back of his neck.

“That doesn’t mean you resign!” She stared in disbelief, hands clenched at her sides and chest heaving. “We need you here. I can’t believe after what happened you’ve come to the conclusion that you have to leave. Now. When Corypheus is still out there and I’m still--” She stopped herself and came around the desk. She sat against it and crossed her arms against her chest.  

He looked away. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked. “I can barely look at you without being choked by the shame of it.” Cullen sighed and let his head fall back, staring at her ceiling. “It’s hardly befitting the role of commander.”

Suddenly she stood in front of him, the wool of her robe brushing the back of his glove. She was very close. “Why are you ashamed?” He looked down and her head was cocked in confusion. “It was an accident, and it’s not as if I objected to the result.”

He dropped the hand from his neck and she tentatively reached for it, fingers softly curling around the tips of his own in uncertainty. He stood stock still, frozen in place more than any formation he’d been part of or any guard duty he’d performed. “You’d really said that?” He whispered; couldn’t be sure he really said the words even.

A blush colored her face but she didn’t shy away. “I did. I’m surprised you haven’t pieced that together based on what you heard just a few minutes ago.” She threaded her fingers between his, and pulled him even closer by their joined hands. “You didn’t enjoy that it was me?” Her smile was devious and yet still sweet. “Or would you have reacted that way if anyone walked through your door?”

“Maker’s breath, no.” He chuckled despite not finding the entire situation particularly funny. It was better than being agonized.

“Cullen.” Charlotte squeezed his hand and he looked at her, really examined her face. Her wide, grey eyes looked honest, and the smirk was replaced by a bitten lower lip. “Your door wasn’t locked. I broke in. I was trying to prank you, but it got away from me. Clearly.” She winced in advance of any anger, but he wasn’t mad. He had no doubt she’d been just as surprised as him. “And today,” she rushed. “That was entirely accidental too, I didn’t try to coax you down here for that.”

“What _did_ you call me for?”

“I wanted to apologize for not speaking to you sooner. I really should have right away, the next day.” She smiled softly, the corners of her mouth just turning up like one of the half moons outside her balcony doors. “I was embarrassed for what I said-- and what I didn’t say.”

Cullen was very interested in what that meant. “Oh?”

“I think I’ve revealed enough today.” She raised their joined hands between them and placed her other on top. “Can I ask if you’d reconsider? I don’t want you to leave. I really, really don’t want you to go.” He watched her remember her place as the Inquisitor, the formality returning to her posture though she didn’t drop their hands. “If it is what you honestly wish for I will not force you to stay.”

He breathed a sigh of great relief, like wanted man who’d been pardoned just before the chopping block. “Charlotte, I don’t want to leave either.”

“And you’re not opposed to being more than just my commander?”

Cullen’s heart thumped in his chest. How could she not know already? “I’d be anything you asked of me.” Charlotte bit her lip again. It was a habit he was already fond of, and couldn’t wait to be the one biting that lip instead. “Is there something you’d like to ask of me Inquisitor?” His teased, and enjoyed the spark in her eyes at the return to lightheartedness.

“Kiss me?”

Without the slightest hesitation he fulfilled her endearing request. His hands found her face, thumbs resting against adorably puffed cheeks as she smiled deeply in anticipation. He lowered his mouth to hers and showed her how much he’d wanted this. Soft, parted lips were his reward, as well as a little sigh that escaped her throat. She wound her hands into his hair and pressed closer yet, as if there was still too much distance between them. To think he would have left... Spurred on by the mistake he almost made, Cullen moved her towards her desk, Charlotte backstepping with him until she was pinned there between the hard wood and his hard plate. Before she could protest, he lifted her and sat her on top of the field reports. Without instruction, she wrapped her legs around his waist then broke their kiss to lean back.  

“Just because we’ve seen...” She blushed then. “I’m not ready to do that yet,” she admitted. “I hope that’s-- not that I think--” The tips of her ears were perfectly pink.

She was beyond beautiful, the fireplace behind her further illuminating her brilliant red hair while casting her face in shadow. Her features were instead lit by moonlight from the other windows. Sitting there now with a little worried look in her eyes and warm hands on his neck, Cullen knew he would do anything to make this woman happy. “Only what you want,” he said. “I will continue to do as you command.”

“Then I command you to keep kissing me.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. “You’re never leaving now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Even though it hadn’t gone as he’d pictured it -- her walking in on him and the same in return for her -- Cullen was more than fine with how it turned out. He was clearly hers and was never going to give her reason to change her mind. In truth, he’d already pictured their lives together, their children, their children’s children. Though now they’d certainly not be able to tell the grandchildren about this first kiss. He was sure they could make up something more romantic. There’d be plenty of time to get that story straight.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Fling me off the Inquisitor's balcony. I am so satisfied with awkward situations...
> 
> I just created this new quizzie and love her so much that I make her suffer. Not that it hurt all too much. ;) First published smut -- I'll admit my finger hovered over post for a little while.


End file.
